Very few students enjoy the prospect of returning to school. After the freedom and carelessness of summer, the classroom can just seem stifling and boring.

But what if you go to a school for super heroes?

It's probably not a lot better, honestly.

Tomorrow marks the big day for the students of the Kirby Academy for the Gifted. While classes don't begin for another 24 hours, students have already been moved in. It's odd, though- For a small school in a the foothills of Mount Emily, it's...Quite a bit larger on the inside. The living situation is, while temporary and only lasting the first week, comfortable enough- Most students are in their own rooms, retrofitted to meet any special needs the students might have while the real rooms are being prepared and rooming situations concerning roommates are settled.

For a little private school in the hills, one of the most confusing thing is the sheer size of the school. It definitely feels bigger on the inside than it does on the outside, and with only one entrance at the front of the grounds, it has to be breaking all sorts of fire codes. That's not to say that there aren't large and numerous grassy areas- The hallways often branch off into large courtyards, some with sports fields, at least one with a park and arboretum, and yet another with a number of small pools, ponds, and lakes. More puzzling, still, is that the weather seems to shift between the courtyards- The pools always seem warm and humid, where the park can prove to be more chilly.

But for the immediate time, there's a much more pressing concern- At exactly ten o'clock sharp, the intercom system crackles to life, starting the day off with a grandiose, sweeping orchestral score. After a couple moments of the music playing, it quiets slightly, as a woman's voice begins speaking over it.

"Gooooooo~~oood MORNING, Kirby Academy! Rise and shine, it's a bee-yeautiful day! This is your resident orator, Live Transmission, and these are the morning minutes! We know school doesn't start 'til tomorrow, but we've got a special assembly for y'all in auditorium A today! We'll be addressing questions and introducing your ssssuuuuuuuuper awesome staff, so come on down! Uniforms optional, but recommended! And to reward all our little rays of sunshine for dragging their sleepy bee-hinds down, we'll be serving up a hot breakfast following! So come on down an' let us get a look at those smy-ling faces of yours!"

The music finishes up, and the intercom system cuts back out. One thing's for sure though: Live Transmission has had way too much coffee today.

Lucja, for her part, welcomes the morning by...laying in bed. She's just been woken up by perhaps the worst alarm clock imaginable (and she dearly hopes that this isn't to be a regular thing at this school) after a long night of travel and settling in, she's been thrown into a school she never wanted to go to, and now on top of all her normal classes, she has to take all these other classes too? Ugh. She's going to be in school forever.

Time ticks on and on and on, but eventually she finally drags herself out of bed and gets herself cleaned up. She's dreading when roommates are actually put together - she just knows she's going to get someone she'll never get along with in a million years - but for now at least she's all on her own. That's cool, at least! Soon enough, she's as ready for the day as she can manage, and it's...only twenty minutes late when she finally heads out for the auditorium. Without her costume just yet; she wants to get an idea of everyone before they start lumping her in with...whatever her powers are. Following the halls as best as she can remember, the occasional turn arounds (just how big is this place?), she finally emerges onto the auditorium...right in the middle of the assembly. As quiet as she can, she looks for a row with a free seat near the edge, trying not to be overwhelmed by the hundreds of students, all of which she's sure are staring at the kid interrupting everything with her lateness. Pure red when she finally finds a seat, she slips in and does her best to sink into it and away from everyone.

She's showing up after the other intro posts, the assembly hasn't actually started for you guys yet.

In the boy's restroom at the end of the hall in which Alan Dougall had earlier found his temporary rooming, ribbons of tobacco smoke crawled lazily over the top of a stall door, looking solid in the stream of sunlight that shone through the window near the ceiling. Alan, or Drow as he'd be known here -- Thanks, Gramma. -- watched the thick coils of smoke slowly diffuse into twisting diaphanous sheets in the still air of the otherwise vacant lavatory, eyed them suspiciously as he slouched back against the wall, perched on the toilet's tank with his feet on the horseshoe seat.

The light wasn't from the sun. He wasn't sure, but he was half-convinced he hadn't seen real sunlight since he'd been dropped off. Everything was enclosed, even the parks and pools, the school covered vastly more ground than it appeared to from outside and it was all sealed off but for where he'd come in. He didn't think the place was subterranean, because usually that gave him -- Gave it. -- some kind of tingle, but he wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that, after years apart, his mother and father had finally come to an agreement on something: their son was just screwed up enough to be sent to what he was starting to suspect was really just the government's secret freak extermination camp.

Military school, juvie, he could deal with something like that. He'd been on a roll since the whole thing started, he knew from a minute after it happened that the thing inside him was only going to take him places he didn't want to go. Instead, what really irked him was being sent to weirdo school when he wasn't the freak. The thing inside him was. The only reason he'd--

"Gooooooo~~oood MORNING, Kirby Academy!"

Alan had been so lost in his stewing that he hadn't even noticed the music begin to pipe through the speaker above the bathroom door, and Live Transmission's enthusiastic opening crashed through his thoughts like a cheerful jackhammer. At first thinking the voice was a staff member bursting into the bathroom, his heart started pounding and he froze in place, until a second later he heard a wet fizzle underneath him. The cigarette had slipped from his lips when he was jolted back to attention and was now clinging to the inside of the bowl with just its tip dipping into the water. Considering that he'd only been able to sneak two packs into his suitcase and it sure didn't look like there was going to be anywhere to try to buy them on the Academy grounds, he reached for it.

Two things kept him from the brand new low he was about to sink to. First off, the toilet water was quickly being absorbed up the cigarette. Its paper darkened with moisture up to the filter in seconds and the whole thing became unsmokable anyway. The second was that he saw, as he reached, that in the instant of panic he'd felt, when he was certain he was about to kick off his half-hearted attempt to straighten out as the recipient of some sort of disciplinary action before school even started, his skin had gone from fair to coal black and glistened like oil. A sense that something was chuckling derisively at him rolled through the back edges of his consciousness, irritating him further.

As the over-caffeinated announcement concluded, Drow hopped down from his perch on the toilet and shouldered his way out of the stall. A trace smirk touched his lips as he stepped out from between the barriers and into the "sunlight" - real or not, it was enough to turn the chuckle into a fading hiss and restore him to humanity. The black seeped into his skin's pores, until there were just dark streaks thickening the veins in his arms, then those faded in turn as his passenger withdrew fully to its side of the vehicle. Alan glanced to the mirrors above the row of sinks just in time to see the last gleaming slivers of silver leave his eyes and the reddish blonde return to his hair, and heaved a sigh of both relief and resignation. He headed into the hallway, passed his room without a thought for changing into the uniform, and wandered after the first person who looked like they might know where they were supposed to be going that he came upon.

"GAH!" Astella shouted, her eyes fluttering open at the sound of Live Transmission. She was suspended inside a thick glass tube, a series of cords and wires plugged into her back. A fairly "normal" looking girl for any onlookers, and just about as unusual as they come on the inside. She could hear the whirring of small gears inside her, felt the powerful and smooth motions of hydraulics in her arms and legs. Nano-fiber coating and reinforcement, it served well to keep her safe and keep these sounds from escaping, lest anyone in the 'normal' world realize what she is. Didn't do much for her, though. Internal noise was a constant companion, and a constant irritation.

The capsule opened with a hiss, and Astella stepped out giving a faux stretch. She had no reason to, but that was just something you /did/ in the morning, y'know? Two quick strides to her suitcase, stilling sitting open from the night previous. This temporary room was already a clutter of tools, toys and cloths. She was told to make herself at home, so she did. It wasn't like she couldn't pack it all up again in a flash, right? Slipping into a pair of jeans and a jacket she'd smuggled along beside the clothing her mother chose to send her with. A series of skirts and blouses, all kinds of nonsense she had no real interest in.

Astella waggled her fingers and toes, did a few jumping jacks and stretches. "Everything's great." She said to herself, took a deep breath (Artificially, and entirely to keep from arousing suspicion. People tend to notice if a girl never breaths.) and stepped out the door.

The auditorium wasn't too far off, and she could already smell a breakfast she wouldn't get to eat.

She loved the new body, "But I miss breakfast."

Once to the auditorium, among so many other students who seem FAR more... unusual than herself, on the surface. There was a small comfort in that, albeit an insensitive one. She'd keep that thought to herself. Shuffling in past and through the line before finding a seat in the bustling gathering place.

It was a question that Jeremy Sharma had been asking himself ever since he had learned of his parent's, mostly his father's, plans. Plans that had obviously come to fruition, he noted to himself with a slight nod as he sat cross-legged on the bed and stared glumly at the floor of his temporary boarding room. Plans that he opposed based on principle. On a few occasions he would admit to himself that maybe, just maybe, going along with the plan and changing schools would be for the best. It wasn't as though he really liked his other school (despite his father's always assurance that it was a very good one), full of future frat boys and sorority girls as it was. 'Probably not the good kind, either.'

Another nod. It would probably be for the best. He could have lived his whole life without really using his powers, though his father insisted they were a blessing, but knowing how to use them couldn't hurt, right? Which still didn't answer the question of why his parents had wanted him gone. Surely there had been resources for them nearby in Nashville. Yet.. why stay there? A slight frown creased the corners of his mouth while he thought about it. He didn't like Belle Meade. His parents knew that, too.

That line of thought elicited a slight groan. He'd gone back to that same conclusion every time he thought about it. They probably did just want what was best for him, but it hadn't been his idea, and to change after so long was.. well, it was frightening. And what if they were still mad about -- then there was music playing over the intercom, interrupting his thoughts and causing his irritation to spike. He'd been feeling irritable since he arrived, much to his father's disappointment as they parted ways for the semester, and this certainly wasn't going to help. Small mercy that he could use his powers to lower the volume with some concentration. Not that he could do it well, with the way the sound distorted and the light shimmered weirdly while he tried to make it quieter. By the time he managed it, he was being greeted by an obnoxiously cheerful voice, and he had to let up entirely, for fear that he'd miss something important.

'I am kind of hungry..'

With a slight bounce, Jeremy sprung from his bed and landed lightly on his feet before turning to the mirror and checking his appearance. His straight black hair, which his father always insisted was too long even after he went to get a haircut, was slightly disheveled. A small spot looked a little inflamed on his otherwise smooth dark skin, a possible pimple that he'd have to take care of. His eyes looked a little red, likely from not getting enough restful sleep the night before. Overall, still not enough for him to say he looked bad. In fact, had he been asked he would have said (with no small amount of bias) that he looked better than most, albeit more girlish than he'd like. His father assured him that would change as he grew. For the time being, he would merely have to live with being shorter than most guys.

Jeremy turned on his heel and took a step toward the door before pausing and glancing to the school uniform draped over a chair nearby, his eyes settling on the light blue star on the chest. The uniform for light projectors, they'd told him. His dislike of it had been immediate. Yet.. he was sure he could make it look good. He took a little time to slip into the uniform before leaving his room, keys safely in pocket. The lock clicked behind him as the door shut, and then he was off bounding down the hall toward Auditorium A.

Leather gloves, brown, sat flat on Karif's knee as he turned the page. Karif was not a small boy, not by any measure; nearing on six feet tall, with broad shoulders and a V shaped torso, nature did not want him hiding where he was. To sit so small, legs folded crossed, shoulders up and together, head down and nose in a book, then, showed practice. Compared to his mother, he was positively pale, but Karif was still darker than a paper bag. Long black hair, silky and sheened showed a little vanity, as well, while fingers fastidiously turned the pages. Book was old - bound in leather - but he turned back and forth in the pages. Old books were often full of old words and old sentences, the outmoded technology of communication.

It's like a textbook on whaling with a subplot... mused the boy. His mind was not full of brooding thoughts of isolation or deeper places when the intercom blared, nor was he lost in his own world and taken by surprise. Loud noises. Huh.

The last words played out, and Melville had more competition than silence, and the walk back to the library. Food, but company. Unheard, he drew a hiss of breath at the idea. He was hungry; he did not want to socialise. He was not particularly interested in this book; and yet there was a little shame to the idea of discarding a classic just because 99% of it seemed bad. Maybe he just didn't understand it.

Ideas tussled for a minute, did war inside him, but in the end, biology mattered. Hah. Folding the book over carefully, he set it down on the grass, taking the gloves off his knee, pulling them on. They were old and well-worn, shiny at the knuckles and fingertips, as so many of the gloves he owned wound up. In so many school photos, he'd been the kid with the seams on his fingers. Pulled into place, Karif unfolded, taking up the book as he stood.

Smoothing down his gakuran coat, he walked out of the park; buttoning up the bone toggles as he went, tucking the book into his coat and letting the impassive mask of his face settle in place.

One by one, and with some needing more guidance than others, the students of Kirby Academy find their way to Auditorium A. It's a large room with all the trimmings one would expect- A stage, where a pretty good number of adults sit, raised above the main floor just a bit. To all sides, there is stadium style seating, with absolutely no effort put into organizing the students in the seats this morning- They're free to sit wherever and with whomever they want.

Among the student body, for every five students out of uniform, there only seems to be one that's wearing theirs. Thankfully, due to the nature of the school, nobody seems to pay those who decided to come in uniform much mind- It's very possible many of those kids can't even dress casually at all. Among the handful of faculty on the stage, however, it's the reverse- All but three of the eight present are in elaborate and colorful costumes. Again, it doesn't seem as if any difference is being noted among them one way or the other. There's a small stir as the final students funneling in take their seats- An upper classman flies up to sit in the empty spot near the top with his friends, an extremely pale girl reaches through her own shadow and pulls another latecomer to herself, and a super speedy younger student fidgets in her seat, before choosing another, then another, then another, all in the blink of an eye.

As things settle, one of the faculty steps up to the podium. She raises a gloved hand, gingerly tapping on microphone and causing a gentle 'pap pap' to sound over the system. She grins, clapping her hands together before spreading them out again towards the students, all the while bouncing on her toes.

"Welcome Kirby Academy Students!" She says cheerily- The same voice that came over the intercom not long before. "How are we all today?"

And then she waits. She waits the way that teachers do, when they're actually expecting an answer to a question that seems rhetorical to everyone else. Some of the student body seems to pick up on this after a moment and collectively grumble out a response. The woman, Live Transmission, claps her hands together again. "Good! We are so, so happy to see all your bright smiling faces here this morning! As you might've guessed, I'm the one and only Live Transmission!" She stops to pose for a moment, before returning to her speech. "We'd like to take this chance to go over a few things about the school and hopefully clear some things up for you. Before that though, I'd like to take juuuuust a sec to introduce some of the folks you'll get to know pretty well in your time here!"

She turns slightly, and begins to work down the line of faculty sitting behind her. "First is doctor Nina Saddler, the school psychiatrist." The brown haired young woman at the end of the line stands, waving out into the crowd. As one of the ones wearing 'normal' clothes- A nice skirt, sweater, and jacket- There's not much right off to note about her. She sits, and Live Transmission continues. "Don't get her started on the puns, kids! Trust me. Next to her is the, uh...gym teacher-slash-coach, Ms. Abrams. Next, Doctor Pratchett, who leads the math department- You kids'll love him. Next, our famed and illustrious headmaster, Doctor Grimes!"

The pale, dark haired man sitting boredly in the middle of the seated group looks up slightly, propping his head on a fist. He makes a gesture at Live Transmission, who tugs at the collar of her costume for a moment before turning back, a little more hurriedly. "And a few other faculty that I'm sure you're gonna meet!"

LT stops, turning away from the mic for a moment to take a breath. Turning back, she seems to have regained her peppy, bouncy composure. "Okay. So, first thing for ya'll is a...We don't wanna call it a warning, but it's kind of a warning. In your time here, you might end up runnin' into someone who's really, really familiar!" She stops for a moment, looking around the room as if trying to pick something out. "As you're walkin' around here, you might run into yourself. IF that happens, don't panic! One thing we can't really throw around a lot outside of the school grounds is that this school doesn't just exist in one dimension- We take students from over twenty different dimensions! This one year, we had an entire class that was all one girl, from all different worlds. That was weird!"

She has a little laugh at herself and continues on. "So, it's possible you'll make friends with yourself! But don't worry if you're not friends at first, that's actually pretty normal! But if you wanna talk more about it, go ahead and drop by one of us some time and we'll try to explain it a little better. For now--"

Live Transmission looks up to the far end of the room, as a student slips in through the door and hurriedly tries to sneak towards one of the open seats. Live Transmission grins, pointing at her excitedly. "Hey there! What's your name, kiddo?"

Lucja freezes on the way to her seat, hoping that maybe there was another student slipping in. The silence stretches on too long for that, though, and she stands straight, cheeks burning as, so far as she imagines, everyone in the room turns to her. Fidgeting, she stammers, looking everywhere but at Live Transmission.

"...I...um, I...L...Lucja, m...ma'am. I'm...um...I..."

She'd like to apologize, but the mass of attention purges near any thought from her head. Hoping that that's all she had in mind, Lucja tries to keep slinking forward towards that empty chair, shying away from whatever students happen to be nearby. She can feel her place in the school falling with every passing second, and she can only hope she doesn't end up somehow making things worse.

Kharif had a gift for silence. Sitting just distant enough from everyone, his hands resting static in his lap, his head down slightly, his eyes fixed at the presentation area, he was a living testament to not having any questions, or at least, not having any questions he was going to ask in public. If not for his normal blinking, it might be easy to imagine him a ceramic statuette.

Despite his low, sprawling slouch, Alan looked to those near enough to see him like the most rapt and attentive student in the auditorium. This was because he was doing everything in his power to avoid eye contact or gawking, as he'd arrived just late enough to not have many seating options accessible from the aisle he entered in. The only seat he could find before the assembly started was in the midst of a high concentration of the real freaks he'd been thinking about earlier. Everyone around him had inhuman skin color, glowing eyes, or fins for hair. The only reason he knew there was anyone in the seat to next to him was that the invisible boy or girl there wore a bright orange vest and had safety reflectors strapped around each ankle, knee, wrist and elbow.

So he just stared ahead at the podium and listened without hearing a word. The last thing he wanted to do was make eye contact and risk one of the really weird ones suddenly deciding he was going to be the one they bonded with on the first day of school.

Lucja's discomfort and the mostly sympathetic chuckling that accompanied her moment in Live Transmission's spotlight gave Alan a slight reprieve, as with all attention on her no-one would really care where he was looking. By the time the late girl had found her seat, he was sitting up straighter, finally at ease enough to listen now that he'd gotten the urge to confirm that he'd really seen what he thought he'd seen out of his system. When the call for questions went out, it only took him a second to realize he did have a few.

He didn't bother to stand or raise his hand more than bending it at the elbow allowed, he just called out, "Hey, I've got three! First, can we ever leave this place, go into town or something? And second, what do we need this code name stuff for?" He paused to wait for answers, holding onto his third question until they were had.

She stops, settling enough and clearing her throat. "For those who didn't hear, the questions were about leaving school grounds, and wonderin' what the code-names were about. On the first, yes, you are more than welcome to leave school grounds, so long as it's not during class hours, and you're back before midnight. And that goes for EVERYONE, even those a you who don't need sleep." There's a muffled groan from several points in the audience at that. "You don't gotta check out at the reception desk or anything, walkin' through the doors'll automatically sign you in and out. We got a responsibility to keep you all safe and sound in here, so it's pretty much impossible to sneak outta here, y'know? But kids need their privacy just as much as adults do! So what you do in town is your business; we're not gonna follow you around or nothin'."

Live Transmission gives a moment, before continuing. "That said, we DO hear what happens out there- If you're doin' something you shouldn't be, we're gonna find out about it, and you're gonna get the discipline you brought on yourself."

She turns for a moment, as if confirming something with Headmaster Grimes, then turns back. "And as for the nickname thing, that's mostly for your protection- Nobody's gotta know your real name here unless you tell 'em. So we use the codename for classes and staff use. It also helps when we've got two students from alternate worlds who have the same name, y'know?" She smiles brightly, before suddenly turning grim. "But!" She says, holding up a finger. "We do encourage you to think carefully before telling anyone your real name, unless you're absolutely sure you can trust them, and they ain't gonna spread that 'round. See?"

Jeremy's hand shot into the air. From his position near the front of the auditorium, and his lack of interest in waiting to be called on properly, he had no problem raising his voice to ask, "What do we do if we see someone making out with their dimensional double or something?"

"Ah!" Transmission brightens up again. "You actually will not. Simply coming and going, you'll be in a dimension labeled 'Earth Prime'. Mostly because it just sounds like a good name. It's set up that way because it's completely neutral- We don't have any students coming from that world at all, and it's a very safe, pretty mundane world. Nobody needs to worry about being hunted there or anything."

Kharif didn't raise his hands; he lowered his head and pulled out the book again, peering at its pages as he shifted on his seat. Around him, even those nearby might think someone else said it, as he barely seemed to be paying attention. Still, he had a big voice when he bothered to throw it, and clear to the stage, he called: "So the rules for powers in Earth Prime are...?"

LT turns to confirm with Grimes again, before turning back to the mic. "Using powers on Earth Prime...While we can't say it's not a big deal, if you NEED to use your powers, you can. Just don't go shooting them off left and right and all over the place willy-nilly. If you HAVE to use them, it's okay, but try not to have to, right?"

Astella had been sitting patiently, hands folded in her lap and eyes forward like a good student - In actuality, with a cyborg body one didn't need to fidget or move around. She could remain motionless for hours and not even notice, save for the steady 'breathing' simulation. Her hand rose, slowly, to run through her short brown hair - Again, a show or perhaps a callback to time in her normal body; it was a shy lead-in to raising her hand. She held it up straight until called on.

When she spoke, her voice carried through the auditorium; she did have a built in megaphone afterall. Though it didn't SOUND like a megaphone.

"Do the people of Earth Prime know about powered individuals? Couldn't that cause an inter-dimensional incident?" Her question was deadly serious, and after a quick look around, she followed it up with another.

"... Also, when do we get our actual rooms, and roommates? How are roommates decided?"

LT points at Astella with a bit of a flourish. "No! No, they do not. But don't worry about an inter-dimensional incident; we've got protocols for that. Just like we've got stuff for if you HAVE to use your powers. Don't worry, everything'll be just fine. What we want is for you to have a chance to blend in with non-meta kids so you don't stand out any more than you're comfortable with. As for the room situation, we're working on that, and you should be roomed up within the week."

Non-meta kids. That was a thought that was going to fester. Kharif wondered to himself if a well-placed lie about a skin condition and perhaps porphyria - was that the thing? Michael Jackson had it, or something like that - that could place him in the 'normal' crowd. Not that he wanted to, per se, but something about the 'special' crowd in this place made him ... suspicious. Dubious. Being special here was a matter of being able to Do Something Extra, and all he could do was Wreck Things. Nobody wanted a Calabim if they could avoid it...

Nonetheless, he shifted in his seat and played his reactions close to the chest... as ever always.

One of the teachers, a woman in her early thirties, stood up from her chair and strode towards the podium, her posture straight and her arms behind her back. Her appearance and demeanor was a far cry from Live Transmission's; where Live Transmission was bubbly and energetic, she was relaxed and coolly confident, and instead of more monochrome spandex, she was dressed in a bold, bright red pantsuit, with enough black accents to prevent it from blinding the crowd. Lights shone on her warm brown skin as she looked over the audience, and her short, dark hair stayed in place as she tilted her head and gave the students a broad smile.

"I'm Abrams, your resident gym teacher and head of the Applied Kinesthetics class - and, as of the last few weeks, an amateur dimension hopper, just like you kids. If any of you, and I mean any of you, have any questions about fitting in or getting adjusted to Earth Prime, or anything else that you don't want to talk about in public, feel free to ask me or any of the other teachers after the assembly. Remember, we aren't just here to make sure that you pass your tests or toss a ball around a court, we're here to help you guys. As for now, though, I think we've got most of our bases covered. So, unless you guys have any more questions, why don't we get this show on the road?"

She glanced over at Live Transmission for a brief moment; that was directed at her as much as the students.

Astella panned her view over toward Live Transmission. Hyperactive spandex-wearing heroine. There was a certain style to playing it oldschool, she supposed. A quick look around at her fellow students, a few who'd managed to cause a scene, and one who'd asked a series of silly questions, presumably, to get on LT's nerves.Wrrrrrrrr......Oh boy, which one am I going to be paired with? And will they know not to trip over my cables at night?

Live Transmission takes a moment to comprehend how her assembly got hijacked, before flicking her wrists at the crowd. "Go! Go on, breakfast is waiting for you guys in the cafeteria! If you got any more questions, ask your instructors! Check your mail for schedules today! Now g'wan! Git!"

Hardly a second after LT Dismisses the assembly and already a huge chunk of the students have already disappeared one way or the other- One would hope they have a precaution to stop the Speedsters and Teleporters from taking all the Belgian waffles.

Lucja slides out of her seat, dropping into the rear mass of the crowd as she's thankful for the lack of attention on her. A new rule she'll have to stick in her mind - never ever be late for anything here, ever. Shouldn't be too hard to do that.... So much else to keep track of too! Not just the dimensions and the powers and all that, but so many different teachers, subjects she'd never even heard of! It's a good thing they're picking schedules for them, because she can't even begin to think what she might want to take if she had to choose.

Keeping with the flow of people, she makes sure she doesn't end up falling all the way in back; she might feel embarassed, but not no-waffles embarassed! And as she goes, her path end up taking her near another new student here, though of course she doesn't recognize them just yet...

The person behind Lucja isn't another student, however: it's Abrams, the teacher who cut Live Transmission short at the assembly. What, you thought that only kids enjoyed sweet, waffly goodness? How close-minded of you. Her mind isn't just on breakfast treats, though. She's also keeping an eye on the students, making sure that none of the superpowered tykes were getting out of line.

Satisfied that everyone was more or less well-behaved, she focuses back on the line ahead of her, just in time to notice Lucja. With a small smile on her face, she gives the kid a short nod.

Lucja starts a bit, not expecting to see a teacher mixed in with all the students. Stammering, she nods, shaking at least a few words out from her head. "Um...yes, ma'am! It's really good! I really...it's nice here, I like it a lot!"

She might be overselling it a little, but she doesn't want two teachers annoyed by her!

Bluebird followed the crowd to the cafeteria, though more just not to stand out. It wasn't like she could partake in any waffles, despite how amazing they smelled even from here.She reached up and placed a hand on her stomach. It didn't take long to spot Abrams and Lucja, now conversing in the line. Could be a decent chance to meet people, either way.

She smiled her best, stood up straight, and took several strides right over to the duo; raising a hand and opening her mouth to speak.. And nothing comes out at first.

>Audio Output Volume - 65%

Opening up again, "Ahem, Hello! It's nice to meet you." Just keep smiling, and be friendly.Her eyes twinkled, but moreso because they were actively scanning the duo for physiological information. Heart rate, O2 input and output, all this superfluous information Astella would likely never have a use for.

>Hide GUI

Bluebird swung her hands behind her back and clasped them, "Thank you for moving the assembly along, Mrs. Abrams. Or.. Ms. Abrams. Or professor?" She glanced upward slightly in thought. "Either way, good morning!"

Lucja looks over to Bluebird, giving an awkward smile and wave; inside, she's more than relieved to have some attention taken off her for now. And she seems pretty nice already! Maybe a little nervous too, she looked a little lost for words at first; a relief too that she's not the only one.

As a note, Bluebird can probably detect that she's constantly sucking in small levels of light from around her; things are a slight bit dimmer around her, not enough for most people to notice. Maybe the same for anyone else with light-based powers too, since it looks like there's a couple others too!

When she sees Bluebird, her eyes widen in recognition, as her heart rate goes up for the briefest moment. That was the cyborg girl, wasn't it? Interesting. She composes herself quickly enough, though, and her friendly demeanor remains in place as she looks between the two girls.

"Ms. Abrams is fine," she said, "And don't worry about the assembly. If I wasn't there, then I'm sure someone else would have rushed to the rescue. Though..."

She tilts her head, considering the files she read on the students earlier in the week, and continues, "Why don't I let you two get to know each other? If you girls need anything, I'll be at the end of the staff table. We can chat over breakfast - if you don't mind sharing a table with LT, that is."

This wasn't as hard as she thought it might be. The smile she wore became more genuine.

"Of course, Ms. Abrams. Thank you. LT is fine, I'm certain!" Hands still folded behind her back, she turns to Lucja after Abrams had (presumably?) taken her leave of them.

"We're not supposed to use our real names here, I guess? I'm Bluebird, to answer your question. Albeit a little belatedly. Do you.. Does your power have something to do with light?" She reaches out to make a little twirling motion in the air with her finger, as if to indicate the light around Lucja.

"Ahem. Sorry, I have a little.. thingie." Bluebird indicates toward her head, "Scanner thingie." She was stammering a bit. Nervous? She could still get nervous, afterall. She wasn't all metal. Just keep smiling, Astella, and people will like you just fine.

Something her mother had said?

Wrrrrrrrr......

"What was it you did? I don't know if it's taboo to ask that, or what. I would think our.. gifts were something to celebrate and talk about, yes?"

She starts a little at Bluebird's question; more out of surprise than any sort of anxiousness. She never expected anyone to be able to notice right off the bat like that! "Oh! Right, I...uh...I dunno if there's a fancy name for it? But I sort of...pull in light? And I can turn it into things! Oh, right, and codenames...I guess I should start using mine, huh? I'm Pryzmat, then!"

Smiling a bit, she holds her hands out in front of her, and after a moment a shimmering, translucent ball appears between them, rainbow patterns flowing over it like a soap bubble. She hands it over to Bluebird; it feels like glass, but has a lot less give to it, feeling about as strong as steel. And as far as Bluebird'd be able to tell, it's literally light, just...solid.

Astella tossed the tiny ball into the air, and caught it again, "How long can you keep something like this.. existing? How big can you make them?"

"Uh...I can keep it going for a while if I keep thinking about it, but they usually disappear after a minute or two when I stop. And I made one almost three meters across once! I've never tried to make bigger, though. That one was pretty tough."

Bluebird nodded her head, "That sounds like a really useful power! You could make all kinds of things, I bet." She took a look around, before gesturing to Lucja with a hand, to move forward, "Line is moving, Pryzmat."

She'd made a friend. Maybe?

(( Idran's parts brought to you and used with permission by Idran. *applause* ))

Lucja pauses at Bluebird's question, still not yet used to openly talking about her powers. She's been told to keep quiet for so long, it's hard at first to break tha habit. After a bit of reluctance, though, she doesn't miss the opportunity to brag a little about herself for the first time! Though still somewhat on edge, constantly expecting to say or do the wrong thing, she's slowly starting to feel comfortable. Very slowly. And Bluebird seems pretty nice!

She smiles back, nodding. "Maybe! I haven't really practiced it much, just easy stuff like that ball, or...walls or stuff. I've tried to do more complicated things, but keeping all the details straight gets confusing, and they sort of...fall apart pretty quick....But I guess that's what this place is for, huh?

At her prompting, Pryzmat glances forward. "...oh!" She scurries up to close the gap, before looking back to Bluebird. "So if you don't fly, what do you do then? Oh, do you figure things out about stuff? Is that what you meant by 'scanner thingie'?"

Trotting behind Lucja, hands still politely folded behind her back, Astella now enters the line. Technically? She just cut into it. Not that she intended to get any breakfast.

She gave a tiny laugh, "That's right, this is the place for practice. At least, that's what I'm led to believe." A grin, before looking side to side as if she was about to speak a secret. In for a penny, in for a pound. She did just say this was the place to celebrate your gifts, and she was a gift.

"Okay... Well. I suppose it's only a matter of time, anyway." Astella shifted nervously for a moment.>Disengage L. Arm

There was a tiny audible hiss and pop from Bluebird's left shoulder, and at last she pulled her hands out from behind her back. Only, she brought her entire left arm along with the right. Her cloths hid the seams on all her joints, and the arm popped off with relative ease. It was heavy, sure? But even in her 'civilian' body Astella had strength beyond that of a normal woman her age.

She would flush were she able, perhaps drawing some attention as she pulled her own arm off, "Ahem.. Well, I happen to be a cyborg. If that answers your question."

That felt good, to tell someone she didn't know.

>Remote Signal -> L. Arm; wave

The hand on Bluebird's left arm began to casually wave back and forth, seeming all the more robotic now with jerkier movement now that it was lacking a direct connection. Left holding her arm, Bluebird spoke again, "It's kindof cool, huh?" Please say yes.

Lucja stares openmouthed as Bluebird removes her arm, completely failing to process it; how did she do that?! It isn't until she explains it that her brain finally starts working again, and she's able to put anything into words.